


Freckles

by BlueRoboKitty



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ass Kink, Butt Job, Day At The Beach, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Humor, Keith has a great ass and Lance just wants to touch it, Keith wrecks them both, M/M, Masturbation, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Frustration, Unfortunate Ending, exhibitionist kink, self-indulgent smut is very self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 17:46:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7901959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueRoboKitty/pseuds/BlueRoboKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team takes a break for a day on the beach, and Lance needs a moment alone after he learns something new about his cute boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freckles

**Author's Note:**

> I put way too much effort into a fic where all I wanted to do was just make up for the unfortunate lack of fics appreciating Keith's adorable butt.

Somehow, Lance manages to convince everyone that a day on a beach is just what they need to unwind. There is a moon in the Hexalgin Beta system with atmospheric conditions similar to Earth that he's found. Meaning there is an ocean on that moon. And an ocean means beaches. Blue sky. Bluer water.

They’ve just crawled back from battle beaten and bruised with a win that almost wasn’t worth it. The Galra are getting craftier, their monsters meaner, and not everyone is in a diplomatic mood whenever Voltron lands on their planet. They managed to liberate the colony only for the locals to pick at the shambles of their damaged lives, too dependent on the Galra no matter what misery they endured.

That sometimes happens, according to Allura with that faint little smile she always wears when she’s unsure if she’s done the right thing. This alone is enough to give the proper motivation Lance needs to hound everyone within earshot that they need to recharge. Even the Castle gets a recharge sometimes, and they are not soulless space machines. They need a vacation, he says again and again until they all cave in and agree that a short break could do them a universe of good. Even Allura concedes… or she was just tired of listening to Lance.

The Castle’s lands at the tilt of the moon's summer. The planet it orbits is low in the sky, so it’s hot and bright. Lance has never been so thrilled to experience suffocating humidity again, welcoming the sensation of his clothes sticking to him like a second skin, so vastly different from cold, dry space. The ocean churns into white foam against the shore in a spray of water and salt, familiarity of beach life assaulting all of Lance’s senses at once, hearing home in the air and tasting it on his tongue. For a long moment, he just stands there in his Blue Paladin shorts that he chose to swim in with his toes buried in the golden sand.

Once the group of seven settles in on the beach, Lance sets up for a makeshift volleyball game using a net he managed to find on some junk planet a long time ago. This isn’t the only thing Lance has collected to recreate the same recreational sports they have on Earth. Both Allura and Coran have their misgivings at first, until the Paladins proved that sports can be just as much of a bonding exercise as anything else and, a lot of times, far more fun. So far, they’ve taught the two Alteans how to play basketball, tennis, and Lance’s particular favorite, soccer. They quickly learn just how competitive they all really are. This poor net alone has seen some shit if its stringy holes and stained color are any indication.

Despite their romantic involvement, Keith and Lance end up on opposite teams and won’t have it any other way – neither will anyone else. The others once made the mistake of thinking they could tone down the violent competition by putting them together… only to find out _very quickly_ that the Red and Blue Paladin actually cooperating is _worse;_ they are downright _dangerous_ together when united in their mutual unrelenting desire to win, becoming impossible to beat, and so they are not allowed on the same team anymore.

Lance is with Hunk and Coran, and the opposing team Lance has dubbed “The Beautiful People Team” consists of Keith, Shiro, and Allura. He doesn’t doubt for a second that this is Keith’s idea, well aware that Lance still ogles the Princess and the Black Paladin, boyfriend or no, and Keith is using this to his advantage. The match is a deadly one, even with Coran and Allura, who have never seen a volleyball in their lives. Alteans are a ridiculously smart race, and the pair pick up on the rules like they’ve been playing all their lives. Pidge no doubt feels useless keeping score because the ball barely touches the ground as it’s volleyed back and forth over the net at near impossible speeds. Allura’s spike all but creates a crater at Lance’s feet, nearly making him piss himself, and that’s the first score of the game. Both Coran and Lance counterattack with renewed vigor. Poor Hunk and Shiro watch with despair as their hopes for a fun, clean game are crushed with each violent set, pass, and block.

Then Lance gets his team's first score when the ball smacks into Shiro’s face and hits the sand at his feet.

“Sorry, Shiro!” Lance calls and his voice is _a little_ apologetic. “Looks like it’s one to one!”

“That doesn’t count!” Keith cries, eyes blazing like he’s going to rip the net and Lance to shreds. God, Lance loves that look only right now he can't really admire it. 

“Uh, he didn’t block, and the ball landed in bounds so it counts.”

“You hit him in the _face_ , idiot!”

“It wasn’t like I was _aiming_ for his face, why in the world would I wanna put a mark on that beautiful face of his – “

“I’m okay, guys, really,” Shiro interjects, and there’s a bright red welt growing beneath his eye. That’s gonna leave a mark, and Keith is giving Lance this look like if they aren’t on a fun vacation, he’s going to dump Lance right here and now. For good this time. And by _dump_ , it will be actual murder, and by _for good_ that means Lance will be hella dead.

Shiro and Hunk both opt to sit out the death match that just might result in someone’s actual death, most likely Lance’s if Keith has anything to say about it, relaxing next to Pidge in the shade. Keith and Allura win.

Lunch is the most delicious alien concoction Hunk has created to date, goo manipulated and seasoned to taste like a light meal of seafood and rice with some kind of sweet sauce. Dessert is a scrunchy, moist substance that tastes sweeter than watermelon, dark purple juice dribbling down with each bite. While they eat, Keith makes a show of hovering over Shiro like the Black Paladin’s been mortally wounded in alien combat, glowering at Lance the entire time. Geez, like Shiro’s the _boyfriend_ here or something.

Even when Keith glares at him, it’s so cute. That’s the thing about Keith, he is ridiculously cute without even trying, and it used to drive Lance absolutely crazy.

Not that Lance will ever admit this out loud. And ruin his reputation as Keith’s rival, even if they are currently dating, by conceding defeat in the looks department, _puh-leeze!_ Of course, Lance is well aware of his own cuteness. He doesn’t wake up at oh-five-hundred hours space time to wash the cream off his face and shower and moisturize just for kicks. His own copper skin is silky smooth and _gleams._ Eyebrows meticulously tweaked. Lips soft and kissable.

Keith just rolls out of bed with messy black hair every morning, all baggy eyes and bad breath. He is pretty, but the _au naturel_ type of pretty. He’s averagely hygienic at best, a simple shower to wash away the pungent musk of combat, some conditioner to settle down his oily hair, teeth brushing twice daily for two minutes as recommended by most dentists, and a few short swipes of deodorant. That’s it, that’s all he does. He doesn’t even wear cologne; the leathery smell he does have is a result of his cropped motorcycle jacket having, like, imprinted on him or something.

Keith shoulders past him with an indignant “hmph!” as the group collects their toys for the next game now that lunch was over, water guns Hunk has engineered from various pieces of junk lying around the Castle specifically for this vacation. He eyes the gun he’s chosen, a pump action blaster, with a distrustful gaze, and then bends over to fill the tank in the sea. Bends over. Like at the waist. _Dios te salve, María._

It’s not just his _face_ that’s cute, oh no. Keith’s got a rockin’, muscular body, great hands calloused over from so much combat training, killer legs, and such a cute, _cute_ ass, and right now in this moment as he fills the tank, Lance has front row seating to that glorious trunk. Goddamn, Lance cannot get over how he looks in those red shorts just like how the skintight Paladin suit hugs the curves of that plump booty.

Lance has indeed touched that sacred trunk full of junk, blessed art thou among backsides, once and only _once,_ a miracle his palms still remember. They were having a particularly heated argument that turned into a particularly hot makeout session when Keith slammed Lance into the wall, all tongue and teeth and not an ounce of giving a shit, and in that lack of shit giving, Lance could not keep his hands to himself anymore and coped a handful of dat booty.

Keith yelped and all but punched him, and his pink pink face refused to look at Lance for the rest of the day. Lance keeps his hands to himself from then on because he doesn’t want to deliberately piss off his temperamental boyfriend _too_ much. Keith has broken up with him before and probably has no qualms doing so again if Lance pushes him enough. Hell, it’s probably the vacation that keeps Keith from breaking up with him now after Lance slammed his former foster brother in the face with a volleyball. It’s not like they are desperately in love or anything, they’re just dating. Exclusively. With some hot and heavy moments. But it’s not love. Not quite that far yet.

They’ve been taking things slow for a while now. Everyone has been supportive of their relationship, but Allura and Coran have not unkindly expressed their concerns. The bonds between Voltron Paladins are supposed to be equal, five becoming one. Not that Lance’s and Keith’s relationship is any more or less important than their relationships with the others – but it's  _different._ And that difference can mean the universe.

Two of the previous Paladins were in love, too. It was cute and romantic and ended as anybody would expect: lots of death.

Keith screws the now full water tank onto the back of his gun, and blinks when he catches Lance staring at him. Lance gives him an innocent smirk, and Keith scowls back with a flush across his face.

The water gun match proves even deadlier than the volleyball game, no teams, only temporary alliances in this chaotic free-for-all. Although, Lance thinks the team-up of Pidge and Shiro is a little unfair, Pidge riding his shoulders with her little short-range blaster while Shiro barrels onto the battlefield with his double-barrel syringe. Only Allura is brave enough to face this monstrous duo, pumping her soaker with a deadly grin while the rest flee in terror. It must have affected Shiro because he falters with his face growing bright red, and then Allura takes him down with an accurate headshot. She yelps when Pidge launches herself from Shiro’s shoulders with a warcry taken straight from her Germanic ancestors, raining watery revenge down on the princess.

Ha! Now Keith can’t be mad at Lance for hitting Shiro in the head anymore because he's not the only one to do so today! “Hey, babe, how ‘bout you and me go take on – “

Keith simply blinks at him before shooting him in the face. Et tu, baby?

To everyone’s shock, Coran is the winner. No one is sure how, other than those who are left standing never see him coming until a dribble of water from his little squirt pistol runs down the backs of their necks.

 

* * *

 

The ocean is cool and refreshing, much like the same ocean of Santa Monica when the Arctic current of California’s shore actually feels heavenly in the peak of summer. Once again, Lance feels at home as he swims along the playful waves, sparkling fish darting about all around him. And there’s Keith relaxing in a swim ring, another one of Hunk’s toys, limbs sprawled over the float to dangle in the water as the current bobs him gently up and down, head leaned back in relaxed bliss.

Lance glides underwater as if he belongs here as much as the fish swimming out of his way, _Jaws_ theme playing in his head, _el culo_ in his sights. Closer, closer, ah yes, the Holy Grail is almost within reach, and his palms quiver with anticipation of giving those cheeks a generous squeeze. This temptation has been driving him crazy all morning, vivid memories of Keith bouncing around on the volleyball court with those red trunks clinging to his caboose like its life depended on it. What is it with Keith and skintight pants? Not that Lance doesn’t appreciate it because he so very, very much does, but it’s like Keith knows _exactly_ what he’s doing to his poor frustrated boyfriend.

Lance’s fingers brush that round curve and that’s all he gets. Neon colors flash in Lance’s vision as Keith’s heel promptly connects to the side of his head, and he splashes to his feet, pain ringing in his ear. “The fuck, babe!?”

“Oops, I thought you were a shark,” Keith deadpans, not in the slightest bit sorry. “What do you think you’re doing, anyway?”

“Just wanted to play a little with my own boyfriend,” Lance replies with a slight pout as he hangs off the side of Keith’s float, tilting him dangerously. “We’ve been hangin’ out with the others all day. We should at least get a few minutes to ourselves.”

“I’d rather drown.”

“Are you seriously still mad at me ‘bout Shiro? You _know_ I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“Hey, careful! Get off my float!”

Keith’s warning only encourages Lance to climb up further, almost straddling him, float squeaking in rubbery protest as it tilts more and more. “Not until you tell me what your fuckin’ damage is,” Lance snaps. “We’ve been havin’ so much fun today, but y’know what would make it even more fun, like straight up perfect? If my boyfriend wasn’t actin’ like such a dick!”

Keith refuses to look at him, staring into the water like he’s begging the ocean to save him. “It’s nothing. I’m not mad about Shiro or anything.”

Bullshit. It’s clear by Keith’s burning face and inability to look Lance in the eye that something is bothering him. Unsure of how to continue, Lance sighs and leans forward.

“L-Lance, wait, _don’t - !!”_

Keith cuts off as Lance places a tender kiss on his lips, and the float has enough of these shenanigans, and the pair is thrown back into the water with a massive splash.

Two things happen. Lance, always a go with the flow kind of guy, takes this as an opportunity to have an incredibly romantic underwater kiss with his boyfriend, his hands skimming the hem of Keith’s shorts. Keith, aforementioned boyfriend, on the other hand, panics, his survival instincts kicking in full gear because having your head suddenly underwater is a very dangerous situation to be in. He flounders back to the surface, coughing and sputtering, grabbing his float.

“Are you okay?” Lance asks, just not having a good deal of luck today at all.

“I’m fine,” Keith sputters, coughing out water. "Warn me next time when you do something like that!”

“That kinda takes away from the spon…tane… i.. tee…”

Lance trails off when he realizes that Keith is leaning on his swim ring with his naked ass right there, right above the surface of the water, trunks now clinging just beneath his thighs after Lance accidentally yanked them down when he tried to go for some under the sea smooches.

Freckles. Adorable little brown freckles dust over those pale cheeks like tiny brown constellations, and Lance is certain his eyes are going to catch fire staring right into the face of God like this. Keith must feel a sudden draft because he scrambles to yank his trunks back up. “You _pervert!”_ he shrieks, voice reaching a pitch Lance never knew he’s capable of reaching, his face blood red.

“Freckles,” Lance breathes dreamily, the worst defense possible.

_“What?”_

“You have ass freckles.”

Keith plants his hands over his backside as if that action can stop Lance from savoring the memory. His temperamental boyfriend has just become a million – no, a _billion_ – times cuter. Keith flush deepens to dark crimson, and Lance doesn’t mean to stare at him like he’s a juicy piece of meat, but he has hot blood pumping through his veins and he can feel his trunks tighten, cold water or no.

He needs a moment. Just a moment.

“I need to take a shit,” he announces unceremoniously, Keith’s shocked expression twisting into one of disgust, “be right back!” and he pushes past Keith to wade to the shore. Sand sticks to his legs as he jogs to a cluster of trees nearby, but the irritatingly grainy sensation is mild compared to how horny he is right now. Collapsing against a tree trunk, rough bark flush against his back, he unbuttons his trunks to free his erection.

He’ll get off quickly, literally pump these naughty thoughts of his system, wash off in the ocean, and then move on during this free time like nothing’s happened.

Except this is when his body decides it doesn’t want to be cooperative. Despite Lance’s skillful touch after so many years of practice, squeezing the head just how he likes, thumbing the underside just how he likes even more, his dick grows beyond a chub only at a painstakingly slow rate. His cold hand probably isn’t helping all that much. Lance always preferred to be pleasured by warmth, and one of his biggest attractions of Keith’s is that this guy is a walking radiator. The heat of his mouth, the warm brush of his fingers, skin burning to the touch when he flushes, ass freckles, adorable little ass freckles –

Okay, he’s getting a lot harder now. It’s still not enough to get Lance off quickly, but he’s found a good rhythm to smack to while using his own precum as lubricant, his stomach dropping, ecstasy carrying him higher. “Keith,” he moans, licking his lips as he leans back further against the tree, his pace quickening. At first, he has misgivings about masturbating to thoughts of Keith when he’s frolicking in the water only some fifty yards away. Now he’s too riled up to care. “Keith…” he moans again. Close now. Oh, he’s gonna come yelling Keith’s name so he bites his bottom lip to keep quiet, but that does nothing.

“Keith, ah… so close… Keith…”

“Yeah?”

Lance has had a fantasy about this very scenario once. Jerking off with his bedroom door unlocked or something, being a little loud and really getting into it, then Keith walks in, they lock eyes, Lance comes with Keith’s name on his lips as he stares into that blushing face and shocked gaze…

In reality, Lance releases an impossibly high-pitched screech of his own, releasing his dick like it just burned his hand, and clings to the tree behind him to keep from crashing to the ground. His erection packs up and leaves, bringing him back to what could barely be considered a half chub.

Keith is blushing, sure, but instead of pleasantly shocked and maybe even a bit turned on himself, he just looks _really annoyed._

“God, are you seriously jerking off right now?” he groans with a roll of his eyes toward the tree canopy stretched above them. “You’re so hopeless. If you wanted to get off just because you saw my bare ass, I would have helped. We are _dating,_ remember?”

“Y-you said you wanted to take things slow!” Lance shot back.

“For fuck’s sake, Lance, it’s a _handjob_ , I’m not asking you to marry me.”

“What kinda person do you take me for, lettin’ you just feel me up like some Godless heathen?” Lance grins, pulling Keith close to him. “Knock yourself out, baby.”

Ah, there he is. Keith doesn’t really smile, but he smirks a little as he leans up so slightly on his toes into Lance for a kiss. Keith’s lips are a little cold when their mouths slot together, but his body is quick to warm to Lance’s touch. They’ve had plenty of practice in the past, and now Lance knows how to suck at Keith’s plush bottom lip just so, make him gasp and open up for his tongue to slip inside. Keith moans from his damp chest as his own tongue responds in kind, fingers lingering on his boyfriend’s arms as he presses closer to him, and Lance can feel the heat radiating from his face. Lance’s hands slide down Keith’s sides, relishing in the responding shiver, long fingers brushing along the dip of his spine before playing with the hem of his trunks, teasing them both.

“I want to touch you,” Lance breathes into Keith’s mouth.

“Is this about my ass again?”

“Please?”

He makes a sound that’s between a laugh and a snort of disgust. “Ugh _. Fine.”_

A choir of angels sing in victory as Lance wastes no time dipping his palms under Keith’s shorts. _Fuck, yes!_ he cheers as he kneads the soft mound. Keith kisses him harder now with a low groan, almost desperate, tongue all up between Lance’s teeth like he can’t get enough. Lance can feel Keith’s cock hardening against his thigh, hear little moans bubbling from his throat, hands digging into his arms. Lance can barely keep up with Keith’s passion, all wet and hot and he pulls away because he can’t breathe, saliva snapping between them, and Keith looks so fucking hot with his face so so deeply flushed and a little drool trailing down his chin and his indigo eyes all but swallowed by inky pupils.

Then Keith smiles darkly, and that choir of angels turns into a demonic symphony. “You really like my ass, don’t you?” he whispers thickly, voice low and husky like he’s possessed. Lance swallows hard as that voice speaks straight to his groin, precum dripping down his exposed erection. Keith’s dark eyes drift down and licks his lips, and Lance’s face explodes with heat.

When did his super cute boyfriend get so super sexy? Yeah, Keith’s always sexy but this is like, _extra._ He’s never seen this side of Keith before, usually he’s a little shy whenever they start to get intimate. Maybe it’s actually that he’s not shy so much as… holding back? Holding back this grinning incubus standing before him right now? Because they promised when they first got together that they wouldn’t rush into things?

One of Keith’s hands snakes farther up Lance’s arm to lace his fingers on the back of Lance’s head and _yanks_ him down to smash their mouths back together, and Lance’s brain short-circuits entirely. “Keith,” Lance moans into his mouth as their tongues dance around clashing teeth. “Keith, I… I really want to fuck you. Please. Ohhh... please." 

“Hmm.”

“O-or you can fuck me! E-either way is fine!”

Keith breaks their kiss and tilts his head as if considering. Lance licks the salt off his lips and continues, “I know we said we were gonna take things slow but that was months ago, and I can’t stop fantasizin’ ‘bout you and I really, really wanna go all the way because, I’m just bein’ honest here, I’m _going crazy._ I want you so bad, so fuckin’ bad.”

Sudden boost of confidence or not, there is no mistaking the pink blush that gleams over Keith’s nose. “Here? Now?” His eyes dart in the direction of where the others are relaxing and enjoying their beach day. “Do you think that’s a good idea? We said our first time would be kind of, um, special. Like planned out and stuff. We don’t have any lube or condoms or any of that.”

“Or time, yeah.” Lance can’t argue with this logic. Keith hasn’t been with anyone before Lance, and Lance, while experienced, is not that familiar with anal beyond fingering the occasional girl who was into it. They would need a lot of preparation. A lot. But right now, they have to get back to the others soon. This vacation day is supposed to be for the team, after all, not just for themselves.

“But I’m so hoooornyyy,” Lance whines anyway. His blood is boiling and he’s so hard it straight up _hurts_. “Just a quickie? A handjob like you said? I’ll give ya one, too. We can get off together, it’ll be so hot.”

Keith’s eyes get that dark incubus glimmer in them again, and he purrs softly, “I think I have a better idea. Sit down.”

Very much intrigued and enjoying the rather commanding tone Keith uses, Lance complies.

“Hold out your dick.”

He gladly complies with that, too, making a show of it, of course. His hand plays along his erection, spreading precum over the shaft, palming over his head and stroking back down again. Keith stares for a long moment as he bites his lower lip. He wonders if Keith is going to blow him. God, he fucking hopes so.

Keith does indeed lower himself to his knees, straddling Lance’s lap, but with his back to him. Then he peers at Lance from over his shoulder, looking so shy, so flushed, and sticks his ass out as he rolls his shorts down his thighs in one smooth motion. Lance has all but stopped breathing entirely. That supple ass bare so adorably freckled and sticking out just for him, and there’s faint bruises where Lance’s fingers have groped just a little too hard. Lance kind of just wants to bury his face between those plump cheeks and really make a mess, but chances are good Keith hasn’t cleaned properly and it would probably freak him out more than anything, anyway. Butt stuff is a particularly sensitive arrangement. Lance will have to save that for later, but for right now, he’ll just stick to the plan.

Then Keith, fucking Keith, just starts gyrating his hips, that sexy little caboose rolling and dipping with a hypnotic fluidity that fucks with Lance’s brain from the inside. “You can touch me, you know,” Keith mutters, still acting a little too shy, a little too innocent. He’s up to something. Keith always gets that tone whenever he has mischief planned.

That doesn’t deter Lance from grabbing palmfuls of that fine ass on his lap, however, kneading in large circles, flesh sculpting perfectly in his hands like it was made for him. And, _fuck,_ Keith just _keens_ loudly, like he doesn’t even care if the whole beach can hear him. Then he does exactly how it goes in that one famous song – he backs that ass up right against Lance’s cock and starts to _grind._

A string of Spanish curses fly from under Lance’s breath when Keith shoots him another look over his shoulder, devilish, the incubus back. The fact that Keith can switch so seamlessly between angelically sweet and demonically teasing is messing with Lance’s head until he can’t tell up from down. His hips buck as Keith rubs his ass against Lance’s cock, erection lined up with Keith’s spine and sinking in between those freckled cheeks. Keith has way more junk in his trunk than Lance first realizes, and his fingers dig into that supple backside as he gently thrusts, sweat and precum letting his cock slide easily. The knob of Keith’s tailbone rubs along the length of Lance’s underside as he pushes down and then slides back up again, and now Lance is the one making obscene noises and not bothering to be quiet about it.

“You’re so loud.” Keith sounds like he’s complaining, but the mischievous gleam is still in his eye. “All I’m doing is grinding my ass on you. You act like nobody’s ever done that to you before. Never been to a strip club? Prom night?”

“It feels so good,” Lance moans, thrusting up faster, fingers digging deeper, breath shallow.

“Heh. Seriously? It just feels pointless.”

Lance jolts with surprise, but Keith twists back more to look at him better and there is this devious expression as if the demon in him gains more power with each lewd sound Lance makes. “But that look on your face, on the other hand. Christ, it’s just my ass on you, and you look so fucking _filthy._ I can’t believe you can get off with just this much. What a _slut.”_

Lance knows Keith isn’t really trying to insult him and maybe that’s why his cock leaps at his words and makes him groan.

“I mean, if it’s just my ass messing you up, I can only imagine what the rest of me is gonna do when we actually do start fucking for real. I bet you’ll come the moment you’re inside me. Or the moment I’m inside you. Either way, you’ll be such a fucking _wreck.”_

Goddammit, Keith is playing dirty. Even so, Lance smirks at how his breath hitches a little, at how Keith grinds down on him faster, speed and wet skin creating deliciously hot friction between them, delighting just as much in his own words. This small victory doesn't last long, however, as Lance’s toes curl while that heat seeps through his limbs to coil tight in his stomach. “Keith,” he pleads, not recognizing his own deep voice and not entirely sure what he’s pleading for.

That ass, though, that ass jerking against him, and those freckles, fuck, those freckles are hypnotizing as they dance before his gaze. That coiling is threatening to drag him down to the depths the longer he stares.

“You better hurry up and come, or someone’s gonna find us.”

Keith plays himself, Lance can tell by the way his breath catches in his throat and the way his arm moves quick and, oh fuck, Keith is touching himself right on Lance’s lap in time with each quick rub against Lance’s cock. “You’re the one bein’ so loud,” Lance retorts, with no bite to his tone whatsoever. “Keep babblin’ like that and, fuck, someone will see us.”

Keith gasps out and wow, he looks so fucking excited about that very idea. “I want someone to see,” he purrs. “I want them all to see how messed up you look right now. H- _haaah!_ Hey, hey, Lance, when we finally fuck for real, let’s do it in the lounge. Or the training deck. And, and, oh fuck… how fucked up would that be… if we, _ah!_... if we got _caught…?”_

Keith is definitely lost in his own fantasy right now, and Lance doesn’t mind in the slightest. Not with how adorable he is getting so caught up in his own dirty talk backfiring on him. Not with how his spine curls upward and his ass pops out more, up, down, up, down, rolling, grinding, faster, faster, _faster,_ and Lance can’t hang on anymore when the tight coil in him explodes and shatters him to pieces. He pants Keith’s name over and over as he comes, semen spraying from his head nestled between Keith’s cheeks, shooting up his back and raining over his ass. Lance grinds back against Keith as he’s tossed about in euphoric waves, and he doesn’t care how fucking _loud_ he is, and, fucking _Christ,_ it must have been a really long time since he’s been with someone because he’s never come _this much_ before, spunk shooting out of him in long, hard spurts, some even webbing in Keith’s hair. His last thoughts are of Keith before he all but whites out entirely.

“Fuck, oh God, Lance… Lance, your face… you look so slutty right now, I love it, I can’t, _fuck,_ Lance - !”

He pulls out of his haze enough to grab Keith by the waist and flip him around until they’re facing each other. Fingers of one hand snaking tight through that wet mullet, Lance slams their mouths together, his tongue sliding down Keith’s throat as his other hand grabs Keith’s slick cock and pumps it furiously like his life depends on it. And Keith immediately just _falls apart_ in his arms. His back curls sharply as he shakes and gasps like a man literally drowning in his own pleasure, noises muffled by swollen lips as Lance milks every drop of cum out of his quivering dick to spill it over their laps.

They both collapse against the tree, faces pink and eyes glassy with bliss. It takes up the last of their strength just to breathe. A cool breeze sweeps over them, seawater mixing with the heady scent of sex and sweat.

“Hey,” Lance says softly, gently breaking the silence as he nuzzles Keith’s hair. “Mmm, I take it you're no longer mad at me?”

Keith shakes his head against the crook of Lance’s shoulder. “I wasn’t mad,” he mumbles, ghosting the tips of his fingers along Lance’s chest. “You were shirtless all day and it was… really distracting. I’ve been wanting to fuck you for a long time now, so I got super frustrated with you. And then you had to go hit Shiro in the face.”

“You are never gonna let me live that down, are ya?”

“Never.”

Lance chuckles. So Keith has been pining, too, has he? Damn, they really are _bad_ at communicating their wants. Just one more thing they need to work on, he supposes. “So how was it?” he asks. “Our sort of first time together?”

“I was… really not expecting that. At all,” Keith admits, his own voice barely a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

Lance blinks. “For what?”

“I think I got a little carried away.” He sits back to gaze at Lance, and his lips curve into a tiny smile. “Heh. I kinda felt like you, actually. I wasn’t sure what I was doing at all, so I just kinda rolled with it and started saying whatever weird thought popped into my head.”

“Awwwww, look, I’m rubbin’ off on ya!”

“Technically, I was the one doing all the rubbing.”

“And don’t _ever_ apologize for that because, holy shit, babe, the way you just took control for _both_ of us like that, yeeeeah, that was fuckin’ _hot.”_

Keith blushes a little, dipping his head, and scratching the back of his hair. Then he blinks with surprise, and his eyes go wide as he pulls his hand back to stare at Lance’s seed now coating his fingers. Lance grins with a dark chuckle. “And you look so good covered in my spunk.”

That earns him a look of distaste from the Red Paladin, a cute look nonetheless. “It’s feels weird, it’s all sticking to me now.”

“And luckily, there’s a huge body of water right behind us to wash in. Whaddya say? We go makeout in the ocean now?”

“The others will see us.”

Lance gapes at Keith. “You literally just got off while babblin’ about a fantasy of someone watchin’ us.”

“Because that’s a _fantasy,_ you walnut! In reality, we would probably just traumatize someone and then we can’t form Voltron! Yeah, the universe’s only hope incapacitated because two guys can’t keep their pants on in public, that’ll go great.”

“Nobody said it had to be the _team_ that catches us.”

There is no mistaking the flash in Keith’s eyes as his mouth opens slightly. "Uh... um... w-what?" 

“It’s a big universe, Keith.” His voice lowers and Lance presses their foreheads together, stroking along Keith’s jaw, thumb playing with his bottom lip. “A really, _really_ big universe. Filled with lots and lots of people who can walk in on us at any time, see you make a complete mess of me, see you make me completely yours.”

Keith makes a sound in his throat that’s torn between a protest and a needy whimper, the shy little angel and the kinky little demon battling it out right before Lance’s eyes.

 

* * *

 

“Oh my fucking GOD, why does it _burn!?”_

“Stop whining, this is all your fault.”

Lance continues to whine as much as he pleases as he rubs salve on the horrible rashes that have popped all over his skin. Oh, sure, the cyropods can heal mortal wounds and bring the near dead back to life, but cleaning themselves and healing rashes from alien poison oak are apparently things  _far beyond_ their miraculous capabilities. Or they are being punished for having almost sex in an almost public place. “This isn’t _all_ my fault,” he snaps. “It’s not like you looked where we were sittin’, either!”

“I wouldn’t even have been there at all if you weren’t being such a pervert.”

“Why did you even follow me!? I told you I was takin’ a shit!”

“Because I _know_ you, and you would have died holding it in than take a shit outside without toilet paper.”

“Still followed me.”

“Whatever.”

They bicker all the way from the infirmary to the dining hall where dinner waits for them. The others just give the pair pitying gazes. Lance’s balls feel like they are on fire and not in the fun way, either, but a horrific, itchy, torturous, irritating way. He just wants to scratch his nuts forever, even with the salve, but that wouldn’t be good for him even if nobody around him would care. He sits at the table with the tiniest whimper, thighs press tight together in order to get at least some relief. Apparently, Keith can’t sit down at all, just hovers slightly over his chair, bracing himself on one of his knees and elbows for support.

“You guys okay?” Hunk asks with a mouth full of food goo, trying so hard to not to smile and failing horribly.

“We’re fine,” Lance snaps as he scoops more goo than his stomach can possibly hold onto his plate, hoping that maybe eating will distract him from the sizzling sensation nagging all over his body. And to make the entire situation seem even more like a divine punishment,he spent the rest of their vacation day in sexual anticipation, all excited to bring Keith back to his room after dinner, finally show him a _really_ good time. Hard to fuck your cute boyfriend when all you wanna do is rip off your own skin. 

“Well, that’s what you two get for having an X-rated tête-à-tête in unknown alien flora.”

“Pidge!” Shiro admonishes, and Lance can’t understand how he can still be so shocked after everything else they’ve heard come out of the Green Paladin’s mouth for the past few years they've been defending the universe.

She pushes her glasses up her nose with a shrug. “It’s not like I’m wrong.”

Lances glances at Keith who is blushing hard at his plate. Upon closer inspection, Lance notices that there is a rather glazed sheen in his gaze and his neck bobs with a hard swallow. Wow, Keith really does have a slight thing for people knowing about the naughty things he’s been up to.

With an impish grin, Lance asks ever so casually, “Hey, babe, can you pass the space salt?”

Keith snaps out of his daze enough to pass the small bottle of seasoning to Lance without looking at him. “Here.”

“Thanks, Freckles.”

That really gets Keith's attention, and the rest of the table goes silent. “Freckles?” Coran echoes, voicing what everyone else is thinking. “Keith doesn’t have freckles.”

Lance munches on and swallows some goo, not taking his eyes off his gawking boyfriend and goes right for the gold.

_“Not where anyone can see.”_

It probably wouldn’t be so bad if Keith’s face didn’t flush like a goddamn beacon that the others zero in on, and that alone is enough to inform everyone at the table just exactly what Lance is talking about. “So, about this program Hunk and I wrote to track Galran merchant exchanges – “ Pidge starts and everyone is immediately interested in what she has to say, collectively ignoring Lance and his mortifying innuendos like they normally do.

Except for Keith, who is now out for blood, yanking Lance to him to hiss venomously in his ear, "The exact minute this rash goes away, I am getting you back so hard.”

Lance feels his cock twitch, immediately recognizing that demonic tone.

“Bring it on. Freckles.”

 


End file.
